


Racing Along the Event Horizon

by indigostarchild



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, M/M, Minor Character Death, PTSD, Violence, heads up this is dark, sendaxus is there if you squint, there will be fluff at the end i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-02-22 11:05:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13165614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigostarchild/pseuds/indigostarchild
Summary: The roar of the arena should have been deafening, but instead it sounds far away as if underwater.  Shiro’s heartbeat flutters loudly in his ears as adrenaline burns through him like acid.  Every time back in this godforsaken place feels just as maddening as the first time.  The beast under him senses his distress and shudders, dancing sideways and shaking her head.  Her name is Singularity, and she’s as terrifying as she is beautiful.  They have to win this race together or they face certain death.orThis is not your usual a-boy-and-his-dog story.





	1. Chasing Life and Running From Death

**Author's Note:**

> I based this fic on the Palio race in Italy. It's the sort of brutal victory-or-death entertainment the galra would love. This fic has been stress relief for me though a very stressful time, so it's a lot darker than what I usually write. Please mind the tags!

The roar of the arena should have been deafening, but instead it sounds far away as if underwater. Shiro’s heartbeat flutters loudly in his ears as adrenaline burns through him like acid. Every time back in this godforsaken place feels just as maddening as the first time. The beast under him senses his distress and shudders, dancing sideways and shaking her head. Her name is Singularity, and she’s as terrifying as she is beautiful. The closest thing Shiro could think to compare her to is a horse. She’s tall and proud, with narrow pointed ears and a long face. The similarities faded from there. She was clearly a predator, mouthful of sharp teeth and four milky white eyes facing forward. She has six long legs, two in the front and four in the rear, all tipped with thick pads and long claws. She’s so dark that she stands out even in shadows, her hide marbled in a way that sometimes caught the light like gasoline on the surface of a puddle. Her powerful tail lashes with enough force to knock over one of the crowd foolish enough to get too close. She raises her head and screeches loud and horrible. It should make Shiro wince, but he's grown fond of that screech in the past months. Singularity turns her head back to look at him, snorting when he cracks a weak smile for her. Shiro sometimes wondered what kind of place she had come from. Was she raised in captivity, never knowing better than this, or was she torn from her world like he was?

She pulls Shiro forward and out of his thoughts, eager to run, barely contained by his hands on the reins. Shiro adjusts his grip and tightens his hold on the whip, ignoring the sweat running down his face. He needs to focus. They've trained too much and come too far just to die here. They need to win. They need to win because losers did not survive what happens next.

Shiro eyes up the competition. The riders are a motley crew of prisoners and gladiators, handpicked by their commanders. They are riding other aliens like Singularity. He’s heard the Galra in the stables call them ‘gexyl’. They’re fairly cooperative for toothy beasts the size of draft horses and a resemblance to a greyhound from hell. Or, for the most part at least, he thinks as he watches one of the gexyl roughly throw its rider to the ground and run from its handlers. 

He pats Singularity’s shoulder reassuringly and she settles her steps. She’s still breathing hard, excited and overwhelmed, just as new to this race as Shiro is. A loud voice calls over the din and drones on about tradition, honor, and bravery. From what Shiro understands, this was just a way for the commanders to show off their wealth and power. Shiro had learned this when he was made to watch recordings of previous races. He was supposed to learn winning strategies, but he found himself trying to understand why this race was held at all. He gleaned that originally the race was created so commanders and their lackeys could squabble out their rivalries in a way that didn’t create civil wars, but it had long ago become something corrupt and fanatic. Soldiers blindly loyal to their commander’s viewed the race as a matter of honor. They placed their manic faith in the riders. Losing riders were traitors and deserved to be destroyed. The crowd would fall on them like rabid dogs and tear them apart. The winner received an almost god like status. Some factions had rivalries so bitter they would rather prevent their enemy from winning rather than attempt to win themselves. It became so convoluted that bribes and favors were just as important as fast gexyl and skilled riders. 

Shiro knows there are bets placed against him, riders that have been paid off to keep him from winning. He also knows that he has tentative allies among the other riders, paid off to let him by. Keeping track of whether a friend or foe is at his side will be one part of many to focus on to win this race. Sendak had spared no expense protecting his fierce reputation. Shiro doesn’t trust even supposed allies in this battle; every rider wants to live through this just as much as he does. The only way to do that is to win, or prevent a rival from winning. But Sendak isn’t like the other commanders; being the best means he has no rivals to spite. Shiro has Sendak’s crest emblazoned bright on the jacket he’d been given. He belongs to the commander just as much as Singularity does. Winning is the only option.

Shiro startles when the announcer shouts his name. He urges Singularity forward to the startling line. She snaps at the silver gexyl pressed next to her and kicks out, Shiro straining to keep her calm and still. Sin’s always been spirited, but she’s fast, and she’s smart. They can win. They have to win. The noise of the crowd has risen to a fever pitch, many voices morphing into one great roar for blood. Shiro fights down the urge to scream. He remembers fights where his opponent’s terrified rabbit hearts had failed them just moments into the arena. They just crumpled. Shiro considered it a blessing of sorts; he didn't have to maim them, and it was a quick death. Shiro long ago proved himself to be lionhearted, but weather it’s a blessing or a curse Shiro has yet to decide. “Victory or death! Vrepit sa!” the announcer bellows. The crowd chants it back in terrifying unity.

Shiro’s shaking hard, but his hands stay steady on the reins. Sin skitters on her feet, impatient to run, and nervous for Shiro. She doesn’t understand the stakes. She has no idea why her rider is about to damn near lose his mind out of fear. She makes a rumbling sound, something Shiro has learned is supposed to be soothing. Shiro mumbles back to her, false promises and soft words.

Another rider pushes next to them at the starting line. Their white gexyl throws its head wildly, eyes rolling with fear. Sin pins her ears back, not happy with the press of bodies against her on both sides. She lashes out with her tail, striking the white gexyl and hissing. The gexyl is cowed into some complacency, trembling in place. The rider growls and elbows Shiro hard in the ribs but he barely budges, hard earned muscle holding him steadily in place. Shiro lashes out in return with his sharp-tipped whip and the other rider backs off with a curse. He’d nicked their jaw and the blood is already welling up. The white gexyl hisses and spits as it struggles against reins held far too tight.

There is only one rule in this race: the first gexyl across the finish line wins. Playing dirty is not only allowed but encouraged. They all received short stiff whips with a small jagged metal end. Not enough to kill, but enough to hurt like a bitch. He eyes the rider on his left, daring them to try anymore funny business. They pointedly avoid eye contact. He knows the eight armed rider on his right has been paid off to ignore him, but he can’t allow himself to drop his guard. The arena has at least prepared him for this; he’s used to watching his blind spots. He pulls in deep breaths to fake calm, mumbling soothing words to Singularity that she flickers her ears back to listen to.

All too fast, there’s a deafening bang, and the starting gate drops. Singularity surges forward like a tidal wave and Shiro is right there with her. Months ago a start like that would have left him in the dirt, Sin running merrily forward without him. They’ve come a long way since then. Shiro shouts to encourage her faster. He can feel her hearts beating rapidly under him, her chest expanding as she breathes, her feet digging deep into the dirt and pushing her forward. He reaches his hands up along her neck to let her have her head free and really move. He’s learned that it’s not about fighting her for control, but letting her run and guiding her steadily through the treacherous parts. The riders that hadn’t learned that yet were either going to learn fast or end up crushed in the dirt.

The racing track that has been set up in the arena is crude and dangerous. There are sharp turns and inclines, bottlenecks and curved walls all meant to make riders and gexyls alike fall. A fall itself is potentially survivable, but being trampled isn’t, and if the crowd gets to you you’re done. Shiro has no saddle to speak of, nothing to hold onto except the reins and Sin’s smooth hide. They’re near the front of the pack around the first turn, Singularity adjusting beautifully under Shiro’s guidance. There’s a scream behind them as a gexyl takes the turn too fast, too close, slipping and smashing into the corner. It goes down in a flail of limbs, it’s rider lost beneath a stampede of sharp feet. Shiro’s distraction costs him when another rider pushes in front of him and cracks their whips across his face. Blinding white pain arches through him and Singularity falters. Shiro urges her forward and she pushes hard at the gexyl in front of her. At the same time Shiro lashes out with his own whip, cracking the alien across its long hands. It nearly drops the reins and Shiro pushes his advantage, breaking past them and skidding around the next corner. Shiro doesn’t react this time when he hears someone hit the wall with a sickening thud.

Singularity flies down the straightway, and Shiro would enjoy the rush from their combined speed and ferocity if not for the dire situation. They nearly catch up to the leader just as they reach the bottleneck. Shiro is grateful he broke away from the pack before this, because two rider-less gexyl’s come up behind them, mouths foaming and eyes terrified as they keep plowing forward. They only seem to spur Sin faster as she pulls away from them towards the team in the lead. She's coming into her element, head and tail lifted high as her confidence builds. Shiro spares a moment of focus to rub his hands up her neck

Shiro wants to live so intensely he feels like he’s been ignited and he’s burning from the inside out. They have to catch up. They take the next turn with only inches to spare form the brutally sharp metal edge of the corner. They complete the first lap and are closing in on the leader. Their gexyl is fast, but Shiro knows Sin is faster. They draw closer and closer, and once Shiro can make out the soft pattern of faint stripes on its hide he makes his move.

Shiro urges Singualirty on and brings down the flat of the whip on her flank. She leaps forward and Shiro reaches out, catching his whip with a harsh crack against the sensitive back of the leading gexyl’s legs. It stumbles just enough for Shiro to maneuver Singularity next to it. They both barely make the next corner, too busy trying to get past each other. Shiro lifts his arm to protect his face from the sharp bite of his opponent’s whip, ignoring the pain to strike their gexyl’s vulnerable face. The creature backs off with a flash of sharp teeth and a screech of distress. As much as Shiro hates it, it strategically it makes more sense to attack the gexyl. They are the one running, not the rider, and slowing them down means gaining ground. Shiro hopes the other riders will keep viewing him as the target instead of Sin.

Shiro digs his legs into Singularity’s sides but he doesn’t need to. Singularity is finally in the front, just where she wanted to be. She lengthens her stride, head held high with confidence. They hardly lose any speed on the next corner. Shiro can hear someone coming up behind him, and he glances back. The pack has thinned, several rider-less gexyl testaments to riders lost. There are less of the gexyl’s too, and Shiro hopes they had swift deaths rather than what awaits them if they survive. Swift deaths, however, is always too much of a mercy to ask for in the arena. The previous leader is just behind him, eyes desperate as they lash their gexyl with the whip mercilessly. Shiro shudders. This is another gladiator like him, someone who just wants to fucking survive in this hellhole, and he’s going to take that from them. Shiro urges Singularity forward and she rumbles happily. She’s always loved running at breakneck speed. Maybe a bit too much. He has to pull her back around the corner when she’s a hairsbreadth away from slamming them into the wall in her eagerness.

The striped gexyl comes up beside them, mouth foaming and eyes wild. Shiro gasps when it shoves hard against Sin. She jolts left and hits the wall hard, screaming and stumbling. Shiro screams with her, his leg burning with pain. Sin lashes out at the offending gexyl, kicking out and screeching her fury. The rider’s whips comes down and tears a wound across Singularity’s chest. She falters just Shiro cracks the whip into the eyes of the rider. The glara half breed shouts and falls back, grabbing at their bloodied face and unintentionally pulling back their gexyl. They lash out blindly, desperate, and their whip catches Shiro’s cheek and tears across his nose. It burns like hell and Shiro can only curl forward and curse. Sin gets her legs under her again and runs, Shiro praising her mindlessly through the pain. Adrenaline is a familiar and fleeting pain relief as he forces himself to uncurl and focus. He glances back just in time to see another rider come up and drag the half breed off their gexyl. They slip around the corner before Shiro can see what happens. Shiro long ago lost count of all the deaths he’d contributed to in this arena, but every time it happens he feels like he loses another piece of himself to this godless place.

Shiro realizes there is just one more corner and they are home free. Hope swells in his chest, fluttering and desperate. What he doesn’t expect to see around the corner are audience members on the track. He's never seen audience members jump down into the arena. They're going after a bloody rider who’s attempting to scramble away from the malice in their grasping hands. Their gexyl lies in the middle of the narrow track, struggling to get up off the ground. From the broken angle of its front leg, it won’t be getting up anytime soon. The crowd scatters with shouts and curses as Sin plows ahead. Shiro only has moments to realize they are going to crash into the downed gexyl when he signals Singularity to jump. She clearly had the same idea, her legs already bunched under her. She leaps over it and for a moment Shiro feels weightless. It's a feeling he'd almost forgotten, the Kerberos mission feeling like a lifetime ago. Singularity lands and nearly jolts Shiro off her back. His injured leg and now bruised crotch complain loudly but Shiro hardly notices because he can see the finish line. He holds on and urges her forward.

Singularity lifts her head high and flies over the finish like the wind itself, Shiro just a stubborn burr attached to her back. The arena explodes with noise and Shiro’s ears ring as they are surrounded by galra. They seem to pour in from all sides. Shiro recognizes their colors as Sendak’s troops. They grab at him and Singularity with reverence. It’s almost like they expect to receive a blessing upon contact. The pressing crowd is unusually quiet and it’s making the hairs on Shiro’s neck stand up. They murmur as they reach out, Shiro flinching away from every gentle touch. Gentle isn’t something he’s ever associated with the galra. He’s learned to understand their cruelty, but this doesn’t make sense. He looks up, searching for something to help him understand. Shiro can see his own face plastered on the big screens. He looks wild and unfamiliar, the blood on his face like a violent mask. The words they are saying finally filter through the battered translator. "Champions" they murmur. "Champions."

It seems like ages before sentries clear a path through the crowd. Shiro has no choice but to follow their path. He guides Singularity up onto a raised dais in the center of the arena. A force field closes over it behind them, filtering everything purple. They are both bleeding and exhausted, but they are alive. Shiro lets out a shuddering sigh. Sin snorts her agreement.

Shiro looks up and sees Sendak and Haxus displayed on the screens with big blocky text. He can’t read galran, but he assumes it is proclaiming Sendak the winner. Haxus is grinning like a cat that got the canary, while Sendak looks nearly bored with the situation. An unfamiliar siren goes off and the spell over the galra breaks. They abandon the arena to return to the stands like a receding tide. 

The announcer starts winding the audience back up into a froth as the arena shifts back to its familiar open oval shape. Gexyls run about in a panic, injured riders not doing much better. Some scrape themselves off the ground, battered and bloody from the race and the crowd. Those who didn’t survive lay cooling in the dirt. The gexyl's too injured to get up cry out for help that won't come. Shiro wishes someone would just put a blaster to their heads and end their suffering. The screen changes to show the other commanders. They all look to be in bad moods, no doubt not pleased to be the losers. They all have a variant of two hand signals that Shiro has learned means yes or no. There is only one yes. One rider is plucked from the arena by the sentries. The rest, at least a dozen, and the gexyl remain.

Shiro shakes, because he knows what’s going to happen. Haxus had let it slip one night, intoxicated and in a cheery mood for once. He’d stopped by Shiro’s cell to give him what looked like a takeout box of food. He held it aloft like a carrot on a stick. 

“Champion, you better win this race for me.” He hummed. “I got you the best gexyl, and now you need to deliver. I want to win my bets.” Shiro kept his mouth shut, because he wanted that food and knows Haxus is temperamental. Haxus noticed his reluctance and frowned. “It’s a great honor to participate in the Race. It only happens once every venok. This isn’t like the silly races at the resorts.” He adds. Shiro maintains staring at his feet. 

“Here’s some incentive.” He sighs. “Riders aren’t supposed to know… but there’s hardly any rules to this anyway. You know there’s a fight after, the truth is that it’s a slaughter. If you lose, both you and your precious pet get eaten alive by a monster. So don’t lose.” Haxus had slipped the food into the cell and left, leaving Shiro to alone to ruminate on his impending demise. His fear hadn’t stopped him from scarfing down the cold noodles. Fear for his life was horribly normal at this point. Decent food was not.

Shiro still doesn’t know exactly what this monster is, but he has the sinking feeling he’s about to find out. The huge doors at the end of the arena open, and a blood curdling scream shatters the constant hum of noise over the arena. Shiro yells as the sound digs into him, lifting his hands to cover his ears. Sin screams in fear and jumps back, nearly sending Shiro to the ground. He holds onto her as he gapes at the creature that has entered the arena. It’s huge, bigger than any earth animal Shiro could compare it to. It’s long like a giant weasel with a crocodile’s mouth. Six legs, six white eyes. A thick iridescent white hide and viciously sharp claws. It’s the nightmare version of a gexyl. Shiro thinks blurrily through the terror that they must be from the same world. What a mistake it was to think the gexyl's must have been the top predator there.

The alien flinches in the light of the arena, and lets out another scream, thrashing its tail with enough force to leave deep welts in the arena sand. Shiro gets a good view of its mouth and wishes he hadn’t. It’s crammed full of wickedly sharp teeth as long as his arm. Singularity shakes under him but does not move. She barely seems to breathe, so still Shiro realizes she’s attempting to hide in plain sight. Singularity, terrifying in her own right, is frozen like a deer in the headlights. 'Prey instincts in the presence of an apex predator' Shiro’s mind supplies. The creature shakes it head again, blinking furiously, and paws at its face. It hisses angrily, thrashing and snapping. A gexyl that had been frozen still screams in terror and flees. The monster catches the movement and goes as still as if it had become stone. It crouches and leaps, crossing half the arena in one easy bound. Shiro watches in horror as it rips the gexyl in half, blood coating the arena wall in an arc. The short time it takes to eat its meal gives the others time to scatter. It’s not enough time. There’s nowhere to run. It lifts its horrible head and moves, far too fast and nimble for something so large, crushing a straggling gladiator beneath its massive paws. It’s far too close and Shiro can hear the sharp snap of bones.

The monster is relentless and Shiro looks away, tucking his head into Singularities neck and trying not to listen to the screams. He looses track of time as he shakes apart. There’s a strange noise close by and Shiro looks up. It’s the half breed who’d been on the striped gexyl. They’re bloodied and bruised, one eye swollen shut where Shiro had hit them, but they are still alive. They bang on the force field, screaming for help. Shiro shakes his head, just once. There’s no way to lower the barrier. The half-breed quiets. They tuck in close to the barrier. Try to make themselves small and still. There’s a dozen things Shiro wants to say, but they are all lies. It’s not going to be okay, and he can’t help them, and he isn’t sorry that it’s the half breed out there with the monster instead of him.

Shiro watches, frozen, as the monster approaches, it’s entire head and front stained red with blood. It’s horrifically beautiful, lithe and graceful and deadly. It gleams under the arena light like a god of death sent to unleash judgement upon them all. The half-breed screams, wild with terror, and locks their indigo gaze on Shiro. Shiro shudders; Keith's eyes flash bright through his mind, a memory he'd nearly forgotten. They press a bloody hand to the force field and stare. Shiro stares back.

“I’m scared” they say, voice quiet. “I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not alone” Shiro says. It’s the only truth he can offer.

Tears well up in their eyes, but they nod. “I’m not alone” they repeat. They choke on a sob. “Don’t look away. Don’t you dare look away.”

“I won’t.”

The monster’s shadow drops over them both. The half breed stills, but their gaze never leaves Shiro. Shiro doesn't look away. 

The beast tears the half-breeds head off their shoulders and crunches their skull between its teeth. The body slumps forward against the force field with a sickening thump, blood welling up and dripping down to pool around the still form. The monster looks directly at him and Shiro feels his heart freeze. It paws at the force field, then claws at it. Sin shakes so hard Shiro is worried she will collapse. For a terrifying moment Shiro is certain the force field will give under the attack. But even as the alien digs at it and screams its frustration, it holds.

It loses interest and paws at the still body by its feet. When that creates no reaction, the beast picks it up almost gently before violently shaking it head, splattering gore. It tosses the body and chases after it like a cat entertaining itself with a dead mouse. Shiro slumps over Singularity’s neck and tries to soothe her, but no sound will come out of his mouth. He rubs his hands over her instead. She’s covered in a sheen of sweat, her breaths coming in deep gasps. Shiro tries to focus on her instead of looking up. All he sees is the half breed’s deep indigo gaze piercing through him.

The creature toys with those that remain, chasing them, batting them, tossing them, until they die of shock or injury. Then it eats them. The arena howls their bloodlust at every death. Shiro holds tightly onto Singularity and they shake together. His mind alternates between still numbness and racing panic. The force field seems like such a flimsy barrier between them and death. The monster unleashes another scream, and Shiro screams back, his throat raw and burning. He screams out his rage and his terror and his guilt and his head clears just enough to notice that the arena has gone eerily still. He recognizes the stillness and the blood soaked sand. It’s over. 

The great beast has laid down to lick its paws, probably full and sleepy now. Shiro has no idea how they control such a creature, but after everything he’s see in the arena he doesn’t doubt their ability to. The crowd is still a constant background noise like a crashing waves. Shiro numbly wonders from somewhere outside his body if that means something else is going to happen next. He’s not in any shape to fight, and Sin isn’t in any shape to run. Sin jerks to look to where the giant doors have opened. They monster turns too, and it rises to stand. It gives itself a shake before it disappears down the tunnel. Shiro doesn’t relax at all until the doors slam shut.

The dais sinks into the floor. As soon as the arena is no longer visible, Singularity collapses. Shiro tumbles to the floor and rolls. He groans, pain catching up with him now that the adrenaline is fading. Everything hurts. He lays splayed on the floor for a moment, slowly processing that he somehow survived that. He hauls himself up and pulls Singularity’s head into his lap. He checks her over with quick and worried hands. She’s still breathing thank god. She must have fainted. He can’t say he blames her. When he blinks again he’s slumped over her, body strangely numb. He feels cold.

The barrier drops and the handlers pull him away. He goes without a fight, too exhausted to resist. He blacks out before they make it to the doctors.

Shiro jerks awake in his cell. He's disoriented and and struggles against his blanket. He stops when he realizes it's a nice thick one, warm and soft where the old one had been thin and scratchy. Combined with the weird foam bedroll he'd gotten for winning fights he almost has a real bed now. As his mind focuses he looks around his bare cell. It's quiet, as it always is. He's in solitary confinement. The galra had called it a reward when they moved him here, but it didn't feel like it. This place was devoid of life, the only sounds the footsteps of drones and occasional muffled murmurs of other high profile prisoners. He wondered then and he wondered now if they just considered him too dangerous to keep with the others. He takes stock of himself, noting he's not in much pain. The doctors must have healed him. His face is sore, and when he reaches up he finds the wound across nose is still there. Why not heal it and bandage it instead? Maybe just to mark him, Shiro thinks bitterly. A mark of having killed every other rider and gexyl in that race to survive. A mark of belonging to the arena, and to the galra. He wonders if Singularity is okay. Will he even get to see her anymore now that the race is over? Or will it be back to like it was before, him slowly losing his mind alone in this cell, his only contact in bursts of pain in the arena and the cold hands of the handlers and doctors. He shudders. He tugs his new blanket up over his shoulders and burrows down in his bed as much as he can. 

Time passes, and Shiro startles when part of the cell door slides open. The bars remain, but now Shiro can see out into the hallway. Shiro is surprised to see Haxus there. He’s high ranked enough that he only comes to see Shiro when there’s serious news; or more often, when he wants something.

Shiro sits up, blanket still around him to stave off the cold. “How’s Singulairty?” Shiro asks. 

Haxus scowls. “She died.”

Shiro gapes at him. She can’t be dead, they won. He made sure they survived together. She was so young and full of life and she’s dead. She was his only friend in this godforsaken place and now she’s gone, he killed her, they killed her, he’s going to be alone-

Shiro is distracted from his spiraling thoughts by the gleeful cackling of Haxus. “I can’t believe you fell for that.” He wheezes, struggling not to giggle. “She’s fine you idiot.” Shiro struggles to deal with the emotional whiplash while Haxus pushes several boxes of food into the cell. He stays crouched in a squat and eyes Shiro with an expression he can’t read. 

“Thanks for winning me my bets. Even Sendak is pleased for once." Haxus says. He's practically preening. "I though that since you are furrless you'd appreciate a real blanket, so you're welcome.” He leans in conspiringly “I pulled some strings so you can keep seeing your pet. I don’t fancy you losing your mind on me, because then you’d be worthless. Of course, it all hinges on your good behavior." Haxus stands and smiles.

"I have a feeling you won’t disappoint, Champion."


	2. Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Shiro met the gexyl that became Singularity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get some part of chapter 2 posted, so I decided to split it. I promise the fluff is coming soon, I've just had no time to write.

6 months previous

\------------------------

It was becoming a pattern. The handlers came to get him and he’d be thrown into the arena. He’d fight, and he’d win. He always won. It never felt like a victory. It just felt like staying alive. He tried not to kill whenever he could. Maiming instead of killing never felt like much of a favor. Either way, it always ended in blood.

When the dust settled he’d be thrown into a healing pod. They’d pull him out and hose him off with water hot enough to scald before tossing him back in his cell.  He never thought he’d miss the crowded prisoner’s quarters, but the silence here is suffocating. The cell was small, just enough room for him to stretch next to the cot. There was a little room the size of a broom closet with a toilet and a faucet at the back end of the cell. The water faucet had some kind of timer on it, but there was enough to drink and wash up if he was fast. The water was always shockingly cold and jolted him back to his body.

He’s sitting now with his head under the tap. The water used to bring him back to himself, but now it just feels cold. He’s shivering and he barely feels it. The water times out and Shiro knows it won’t turn back on for a while. He climbs onto his cot and folds his bedroll until he can hug it. He pulls the blanket over his shoulders and huddles down. If he drifts enough, it can almost feel like he’s holding someone. In the moments before sleep, he can pretend he isn’t alone.

Shiro startles awake late into the night cycle. The cell is pitch black. Shiro’s gotten as used to it as he is ever going to get, which isn't much. There’s no sound but the constant hum of the ship, and if he strains enough, the faint footfalls of guards and sentries. But Shiro swears he can hear something else. He stays completely still. There’s a flicker of movement in the corner and Shiro stiffens.

“Shiro?” It’s Keith. Oh god it’s Keith. Terror and hope at once rise in his chest to strangle him.

“Keith!” Shiro shouts. He jumps from the cot, grasping in the darkness for Keith's familiar form. He only finds the wall.

“Shiro!” Keith calls to him again, and Shiro whips around.

“I’m here, Keith where are you!? You have to get out of here! It’s not safe!” He finds another wall. Where is Keith?  "Keith we have to get home, where are you?!"

Shiro can't hear him anymore.  “Keith?” he asks. His entire body is shaking. “Keith?”

The cell is silent.

“Keith?” Shiro tries one last time, his voice small.

There’s nothing.

Shiro screams. He has to get out of here. He has to escape he has to get home Keith is back home all alone and they’re turning him into a monster here he’s going to die alone raving mad and covered in blood that isn’t his. He yells and bangs on the cell door until his lungs burn and his body aches. He bloodies his knuckles on the bars and bruises his shoulder throwing himself at it but he barely feels it. He has to get through the bars and then past the cell door and into the hallway and to the hangers and into a ship if he can just get to a ship he could get home he’s a pilot he could get home.

His shrieks eventually attract the attention of a guard. The guard cracks open the solid outer door and as soon as the light appears Shiro throws himself at the bars with a snarl. The guard curses and jumps back, nearly slamming Shiro’s arm in the door as they shut it. No no no they have to come back he has to get out of here.

“Let me out!” he wails, shaking the bars. “Let me out!!” Eventually his voice gives out and he sinks to the floor. He can’t get his breathing to slow down and lays on the ground gasping and sobbing.

He can't get home.

Shiro wakes up on the floor. He’s cold, and when he sits up he aches. There’s dried blood dark on his knuckles. The purple lights around the top of the cell are glowing dimly. It’s day, his day off, and then tomorrow he’ll have to fight and kill for blood sport. He’s on a Galra ship incredibly far from earth, and he’s probably going to die here, alone and losing his mind, or slaughtered in the arena.

He crawls into his bed. The hallucinations are getting stronger. He’s losing touch with himself. Everything inside the cell is suffocating and everything outside of it is crushing in its intensity. He enters the arena keyed up, panicked, and enraged. It makes him stupid, and it’s going to get him killed. Eventually he warms up enough to stop shivering. At some point today they’ll bring him to a room to train against the droids. He wishes they would let him train with other fighters just for the company. If he’s lucky he’ll catch a glimpse and a few words while passing the other cells.

The outer door slides open and Shiro startles so badly he almost falls off the cot. God, his nerves are fried. He tries to look as intimidating as he can while wrapped in a blanket. Shiro doesn’t recognize the galra standing in front of his cell. He’s slim and short furred, so dark purple he’s nearly black. He has unusual ears for a galra and sharp features. He was eyeing Shiro with the kind of critical gaze that one would usually reserve for an overpriced piece of fruit at the supermarket.

“I guess you were right.” He says, to someone beyond Shiro's line of sight. “He doesn’t look like much even considering he’s a favorite right now, but his size is perfect.” He smiles, and Shiro finds it unpleasantly toothy. Shiro isn’t sure what this galra is talking about, but he already doesn’t like it.

“I’m Lieutenant Haxus.” Shiro’s stomach sinks- he’s never had a higher up come talk to him before. It can’t mean anything good. Another Galra comes into view, and he’s big enough to block the light from the hallway. Shiro recognizes the massive prosthetic arm and the glowing red eye; it’s commander Sendak himself.

He presses himself back against the wall; not that it does him any good. A sentry opens the door and drags Shiro up, securing his arms together with cuffs and clipping the muzzle behind his head. It’s uncomfortable. He really shouldn’t have bitten that handler. He can’t find it in himself to regret it though. It had felt like a brief moment of control, before the blood and the screaming, before the shock that made him black out.

A rough shoves pulls him out of his thoughts and out of his cell into the brightly lit hallway. The bright purple light never fails to give him a headache. Haxus leads the way down the corridors in the direction arena, talking easily with Sendak. Shiro wishes he wasn’t so happy just to be listening to conversation. He hasn’t heard so many words strung together in long time. But he doesn’t understand what is happening, and that makes him nervous. He was just supposed to train today. Normally the sentries bring him there and back. Maybe they want to watch him train? They walk past the training complex and Shiro frowns.

His heart rate spikes as they near the arena foyer; he shouldn’t have to fight today, he just fought yesterday. He can hear the muffled roar of the crowd and the shill voice of the announcer. Haxus takes a sudden left and Shiro stumbles to follow, the sentry shoving him forward. Sendak keeps smiling at Haxus as they talk like he isn’t there. They’re going under the arena, Shiro realizes. He doesn’t like this break in routine, because that always means something painful is going to happen.

They arrive at a huge door and Shiro gawks. It’s big enough to be for an airplane hangar. His heart beats fast when he realizes maybe it is a hanger, and there will be ships inside.  Haxus presses his hand to the scanner and the door opens, warm air rushing out. Warm air that smells like manure.  So much for ships.  Shiro scowls and steps back, not wanting to go into that dim stinky place, but the sentry jabs him forward again. Sendak lingers by the door, scowling just as much a Shiro.

“The smell’s going to get into my coat.” He says.  He looks almost petulant.

“We didn’t come all the way here for you to get fussy about your fur.” Haxus says.

Sendak sighs and steps past the entryway, the massive doors sliding closed behind him. He makes clear his disgust of the place as they pass rows of large cells. Shiro thinks it seems just as clean and sterile as the rest of the ship, besides the smell. There’s a flicker of movement in one of the cells and Shiro pauses. He wishes it was brighter so he could see what was in there. The pause earns him another jab from the sentry. He looks around at all the cells. This must be where they keep the arena animals. That doesn’t help him understand why he’s here.

Haxus stops in front of a cell that look just like all the others. It has the same kind of door as Shiro’s, internal barred door and solid outer door with a viewing window, just much bigger. Haxus is grinning as he looks in the window with Sendak. “Isn’t she beautiful? She’s got amazing stats, a protégé in her age class. I selected her myself after reviewing all the available data and doing my own calculations.”

Sendak huffs, and Shiro gets the distinct feeling he’s not an animal guy. “That pelt color will be... very impressive in the arena, if nothing else," he says.  Haxus is still looking at him expectantly and he sighs.  "She certainly looks stronger than last years. Hopefully she’ll be worth all the GAC. It’s such a waste otherwise.”

“Well that’s why we are getting more involved this time, we can’t have a disgrace like that happen again just because we left it in someone else’s incapable hands.” Haxus says. He eyes Shiro curiously, like he forgot he was there. “You know, Sendak insisted you ride her. I wasn’t for it, because the guards say you have a mental instability.” Shiro bristles, but Haxus continues on. “But now that I see you, you’re so small that she’ll hardly be slowed down at all even at her top speed.” Haxus says. “It’ll give you an excellent edge over the competition."

Haxus moves away from the stall and gets the attention of a stable hand. Shiro notices she's not in military uniform, but a civilian level worker like the handlers.  She looks nervous to have been called upon by a higher up.  All her violet fur is puffed up like she stuck her claws in a socket.

“Has #6701 eaten yet today?”

“Yes sir.” She says, posture stiff.

“So she’s not hungry?” Haxus asks.

“She shouldn’t be, sir.”

“Excellent.”

Shiro did not like that little exchange at all. He wonders if he could dart around the sentry to escape, but the door out is closed, and Haxus and Sendak didn’t get their ranks by lazing around on their backsides. He inches forward to see what he’s dealing with. He has to stand on his tip toes to see through the window.  He stares at what appears to be a large and empty dimly lit stall. What were they looking at before? Are they messing with him?

Suddenly the door lifts open and a rough hand at his back pushes Shiro in. He backs up against the door immediately, feeling for an escape. All he finds is the familiar grid of bars. “Oh relax, she’s been well fed.” Haxus laughs from the other side. “It’s unlikely she’ll rip your arms off. And you better not hurt her, she’s worth far more than you. Riders are easily replaceable.”

Something moves in the back of the stall and Shiro’s breath catches. Four white eyes are watching him, and Shiro can see the dark shape of a body against the shadows. She’s so dark it’s hard for Shiro to understand what he’s seeing. Instead he has to find the edges of her against the dim light of the stall and trace her outline. She’s big, even taller than Sendak.

“You get to name her.” Sendak says. “It’s tradition that the rider chooses the name. It’s meant to bond you together.”

Shiro’s not so sure about bonding as he watches the shadow moves closer. Her eyes are a blank inexpressive white, but he can feel that she’s watching him closely. Shiro looks into the eyes of the sentient black hole before him and realizes with certainty that there is no escaping her. He’s going to have to let her pull him in.

The alien moves forward, large face emerging out of the darkness. Her head is as big as Shiro’s entire torso. Her clawed feet are the size of dinner plates.  He fights the urge to bolt and tries to remain still, trying to force himself to relax. She’s pricked her tall ears forward, curious, and she moves closer. Slowly, Shiro lifts his bound hands. He hopes that huge alien creatures aren’t too different then dogs. He hopes she’s not about to bite his hands off. She leans her head down to breathe a hot puff of air onto his outstretched palms.

Shiro touches a palm to her soft muzzle and holds his breath when she doesn’t flinch away. She presses back. Shiro smiles, and it’s been so long that the sensation feels foreign on his face. He never thought he’d feel a friendly touch again.

“Singularity.” Shiro says. “Her name is Singularity.”


End file.
